


Meet Me at Midnight

by Hallie_Blue, profound_bond



Series: The Becoming and Other Related Works [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cambion, Half-Demon, Half-Human, Jack is Jack the Ripper, Lorenz has changed from when Jack knew him, Multi, Other, Upiors, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallie_Blue/pseuds/Hallie_Blue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/profound_bond/pseuds/profound_bond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is being blackmailed. </p><p>Madeline has lost her shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for my creative writing class based on the larger story of what profound_bond and I have been working on in "The Becoming" and is told from the perspective of Lorenz former lover.

**Meet Me at Midnight- Polished Draft**

 

For the first time since it's founding, Rowan Cliffs is actually a popular vacation spot. Though that has more to do with the disturbing popularity of that new hit Paranormal Romance series than anything the town itself has to offer. I sigh as a group of girls walk down the tree lined street, giggling as they look my way. I hide behind my well-worn religion studies textbook pretending not to notice how they whisper about me. Something about looking like a character out of the novel  _ ‘ _ Meet Me at Midnight’. ' _ If you value your lives you will keep walking. Please. I may look like something out of those accursed books but I promise you, what I am makes your precious Devereux look like a saint.'  _ Have I mentioned how much I hate those books?  I mean, okay, so they did wonders for the local economy, but they also put every Para in Rowan Cliffs at risk.

 

From my seat on the front patio of The Wolves Den, a local mom-and-pop café and bakery, and my favorite place in town to frequent, so . Considering it's owned by the Whitewood family, the friendly neighborhood Werewolf pack, it’s a safe place for Paras to congregate without trouble.

 

Alix walks up at that moment, hips swaying in that hypnotic way I had always questioned the nature of. “Pick your poison?”

 

A scream cuts through the air.

 

“You really need to change your ringtone.” Alix says, her voice full of disappointment and general annoyance as everyone in the cafe turns to stare. I’m not surprised by this in the least, she’s been telling me to change it for months now, which is exactly why I haven’t.

 

_ I know what you are.  _ I look at who sent the message as I turn down the volume of my phone.

 

Blocked number again. Fantastic. Whoever it is they’ve been at this for the last week. I keep hoping they’d mess up and call from a number that wasn’t blocked, so far no luck.

 

_ Who are you? How did you get this number? _

 

No response, not that I was really expecting one at this point. Still, some part of me had hoped.

 

“I….I just remembered I have a thing at a place…” I struggle to gather my stack of textbooks from the table and shove them in my messenger bag as Alix comes over with my hazelnut espresso.

 

“What's wrong?” I hear Alix ask as I flee. My mind is still too rattled to respond. I have taken pride in my ability to play human for the last nine centuries, now here's some random telling me they  _ know _ every day for days on end. I shove the door to The Wolves’ Den open with my shoulder.

 

I don’t really pay attention to where I’m going, I just go. Ultimately traversing one treelined street after the next. All I’m thinking about is the fact I need to get anywhere but where Alix is. If I’ve been exposed as a Para I can’t let her go down with me. Walking as quickly as my legs will carry me along Main Street then down Sanguine Court but after that I have no clue where I’m going until I realize there are more pedestrians than cars and find myself on the familiarity of University Drive. A maze of a roundabout in the heart of Rowan Cliffs. Paras and humans both attend the University, making it one of the most populated parts of town but also the place with the fewest cars since almost everyone lives on campus. Myself included.

 

Two screams. Everyone in hearing range turns and stares at me while I glance at my phone.

 

Two new messages.

 

‘ _ R U OK?’  _ From one miss Alixandrea Whitewood, which I would find sweet if I didn't know her so well.  The other reads:  _ ‘Who am I? I’m the one who decides whether or not you get to keep up the Masquerade.’ _

 

Masquerade? No one calls it that, not anyone who actually knows what they’re talking about at any rate. Only books called the Masquerade these days...well, books and maybe a few small factions of the French Upior community. So who ever this is either got their information on the Para community from shitty Young Adult novels, or the only Para they’ve ever known came from Gévaudan, or some combination thereof.

 

Another scream. At least by this point I've wandered somewhere that no one is around to give me strange looks due to my ringtone.

 

_ Meet me at midnight-  _ followed by coordinates.

 

Meet Me at Midnight….was this some deranged fan of those hellbound novels for angsty hormone riddled youths, fantasizing about some convoluted romance with a hellbeast? If so, blackmail is an unorthodox means to go about it, regardless of the fact the person being blackmailed is 1006 years old. How did they even figure harassing a paranormal was a good idea. If this is a human’s way of flirting with a Para I should probably go back to dating Upiors: at least  _ their  _ brand of crazy is more in the eccentric vein rather than the mystery texter’s signs of psychopathy.

 

If I didn’t have 985 years of not dying under my belt I would find this more terrifying than I currently do. It’s scary as hell as it is. I’m really not sure why. Maybe because my immortality is limited to my inability to age paired with my ability to remain forgettable (minus that brief moment in the late 1880’s and even then I vanished quite spectacularly. It is both my greatest shame and proudest moment.)

 

I go back to my dorm at Rowan Cliffs University, it’s not ideal, considering I have someone claiming to know things about me I haven’t told anyone in the last few decades. Still, it’s better than going to my house, which is where I keep things I don’t really want anyone to find. Things that I wouldn’t want anyone to take from me.  Things like my numerous journals from my past and memories of my other lives, black and white photos of me and Kensie Holland from the 1950’s, the portrait of me that Lorenz had painted in the 1561, other well preserved historic belongings that would probably fetch a good price if discovered by some curator or antique collector. Not that I’d sell them, mind you.

 

Alix is waiting on my bed. It takes a moment for me to process. Alix is sitting on my bed...I should never have given her a key.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“What makes you think something is?”

 

“For starters, you just answered my question with a question.”

 

“It’s nothing. I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Let me tell you something, there’s nothing quite like seeing your closest friend look scared out of there mind to make you want to tell them everything. Never give in. Centuries of first hand experience has taught me that much. If you care for someone, keep them as far away from your problems as possible.

 

“Everything’s fine, you’re reading too much into things.” Maybe Alix will hate me for lying and telling her nothing is wrong when something clearly is. Maybe she will never forgive me. I don’t really care, so long as she lives long enough for it to matter one way or the other. Hips swaying as she goes, Alix storms out of my deceptively ordinary dorm, clearly not believing me when I say everything fine. I have trained her to notice things a little too well these last twenty years. Never thought I’d say that.

 

“Ja jebie.” I sigh, leaning against the door, slamming my head back against it in frustration. No number of centuries in California will change the fact that Polish is my first language.

Nightfall comes faster than I had hoped and not even my essay for my Early Christianity and the New Testament class is enough to take my mind off the fact that I am actually planning to meet someone claiming to know what I am. I head out a couple hours in advance considering the coordinates lead to a place in the middle of the forests surrounding the town.

 

I pull my favorite hoodie closer around myself for comfort, as I make my way through the town again and into the woods towards my doom. Though that has less to do with the biting October winds and more to do with the feeling of being watched, the winds definitely weren't helping any.  I hear a twig snap when I'm about a quarter mile from where I’m supposed to meet my blackmailer. Something bounds out onto the trail.

A deer.

 

It’s the full moon I realize. Not something most Para’s forget when their only non-human features end at memory absorption and their immortality is dependant on their ability to lay low. Especially not something one wants to forget on the night they plan to go for a midnight stroll through the woods to meet a complete stranger.

“ Jasna cholera.” If a Cambion can have a heart attack I’m pretty sure I just did. Maybe this whole situation was bothering me more than I had originally thought it was.  “Calm down, Jack. Confront book fan. Frighten book fan into leaving you alone. Leave. Crap out a twenty page paper on the importance of the New Testament. Not a big deal. Just a typical Sunday evening...and now you’re talking to yourself. Sierota.”

I keep walking, ignoring the false petrichor that accompanies being near the coast and the way color seems to vanish in the dullness of the moonlight. Trying to remind myself of how had faced worse in the past. Some fan of a book is nothing compared to Wendigos or even certain humans or my mother.

 

_ You are here. Well no crap Siri, _ I think,  _ as if the hooded figure waiting on the opposite side of the clearing totally didn’t give it away. _

“You wanted to see me?” I hadn’t sounded so pathetic and insecure since 1890. “You ‘Meet Me at Midnight’ fans are annoying as hell, you know that?”  

 

“I would be offended by that, if that bloody well was why I’m here.” The accent of my stalker catches my attention as they lower their hood and reveal a mass of long blonde hair, pulled back into a messy bun. A silver half-moon pendant practically glowing in the light of the full moon. “As it is, I’m here to kill you. Well, not just you. You just happened to be the first vampire I came across.”

 

“If I was a vampire, I’d be more impressed.”  _ That’s right Jackie old boy, play it cool, you’re not scared, this girl is, what? 19? You can take her...wait a minute...is that a crossbow? _ I may not die very easily, but I do get hurt….and crossbows? Crossbows are really not my favorite thing to get shot with. Not that I have a favorite, I generally try to avoid getting shot on principle.

 

“Nice try. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t a monster. Not a vampire? Sorry. What’s the politically correct term? Upyr? Vampir? I don’t really care. You aren’t worth the effort. You all deserve to die. You’re sick. You’re freaks. You’re disgusting.”

 

“Cambion.” I say even though the girl is mid-rant and based on how she’s pacing around sneering at me like I personally ruined her life just by existing, I'm inclined to believe she's not really one of the more chill demon hunters I've ever met.

 

“What?” She looks frazzled. “What the hell is that?”

 

“My father was human. My mother was a succubus.”

She arches a brow, I wonder what part of that she finds amusing. “You’re half demon.”

 

I can't really tell how she meant it. Was she scoffing and in doubt of my lineage or was she confirming what Cambion meant?

 

“I’m also half human.”

 

“From where I’m standing even the smallest drop of monster blood negates any humanity.” She raises her crossbow.

 

“Who made you like this? What happened that made you hate the entire Para community to the point you’re willing to kill every last part of it?” Sadly, that is the nice version of what I want to say.  My initial thought was  _ ‘Hitler much?’  _  But I figured that won’t win me any brownie points.

 

“My family. My best friend. Everything I love has been taken from me by you lot.” She sounds genuinely saddened and its terrible that her pain is how I finally place that accent of her’s. Manchester. It’s subtle, but still clearly Northern England.

 

I probably wouldn’t have known that if it hadn’t reminded me of someone I used to know. Admittedly I’m still surprised I remembered his voice. I hadn’t seen Lorenz in nearly two hundred years after all. When I do remember him, I remember his voice as he told me to stay, to ignore his father’s command to leave the country and never look back.  It makes me wonder  if the the Elder Upior of Manchester has anything to do with this girl’s pain.

 

“Enough distractions.” She says, raising her crossbow towards me. If there is one thing she knows about Paras, it’s how to kill us. The October winds tug stubbornly trying to loose my hair from the elastic holding it out of my face. “You can ask Lorenz why I killed you when he joins you in hell.”

 

I was not expecting this. Lorenz. My Lorenz. Responsible for someone’s suffering? Never. Impossible. His father I could see, but not him.

I’m surprised when she looks interested, though she keeps her weapon trained on me I see the hesitation in her eyes. Perhaps there is hope after all. Maybe all this hunter needs is to be guided back to a better path. Met her in the middle. Maybe, she’ll let me live if I find the right incentive. Maybe I can convince her to leave the rest of Rowan Cliffs alone.

 

“Get away from him!” I hear Alix before I see her, even still I know she’s  more wolf than girl at this moment, of course she is, it’s the full moon and she’s a Werewolf. Maybe the human girl is trying to kill me and maybe Alix is saving my life but I don’t care. I can’t let another human life end because of me. Not after what I had done in 1888, I swore no human would die because of me ever again.  I act quick. Covering the width of the clearing in a matter of seconds and shoving the girl out of harm’s way. I feel Alix collide with me. I hear her snarl as fang meets flesh, I should have felt it as she tore into my flesh, but I had too much adrenaline.

 

“What the Hell, Jack? She tried to kill you!” Alix screams, I can hear the blood in her mouth. I was all too familiar with what it sounded like when a werewolf was trying not to taste the flesh they just tore into. The girl fires her crossbow at the she-wolf, but she doesn’t have a good shot, it barely hits her in the arm. Still, Alix gets the message finally and runs off with a wounded howl and the crunching of autumn leaves under paw.

 

It takes a moment to realize I’m still half on top of the girl. Her blond hair fallen loose from her bun, framing her head like a halo. I reach up and push a strand of her hair out of her face. I’m surprised she lets me. Only the moment I realise I’m not wearing gloves it’s a moment too late, and I’ve touched her, and I see it.

 

Her memories.

 

Some girl, a fledgling Upior, calling her name.

“You’re not taking this very well, Madeline, Maddie, Mads,” Its patronizing, but in a lighthearted way. Like when you used to care for someone but they’ve broken your heart so you act superior to hide the pain. The Memory changes.

Lorenz. The same Lorenz I had once called mine. Only there is none of the man I knew in the person facing Madeline. He’s a monster. Even the desire in his eyes is the wrong kind. This Lorenz is a predator where mine was gentle. This Lorenz was threatening a human.

 

She looks dazed when we first exit her memories and I struggle to my feet before helping her up. I feel a slight tightness in my side, but I think nothing of it.

 

“You know him?” 

“I thought I did. Once. It was ages ago. He was different.” I see no point in lying to her. She saw the same thing I did just then. We felt the same things.

 

“I’m sorry.” The way Madeline says it is sad, apologetic even. Sorry for how she remembers him, she’s sorry for what he became, sorry I had ever known him in the first place. There’s a moment of awkward silence in which all you can here are Owls and, with enough concentration, the ocean waves crashing up against the cliffs that gave the town it’s name.

 

“You saved my life.” She says. “I tried to kill you and you saved my bloody life.”  

 

“I prefer to not watch people die.” Even as I say the words I hear that my voice sounds funny and not in a ‘ha ha ha’ kind of way. It sounded wrong. Distant.

  
“Jack? Jack! You’re bleeding.” I touch my side, and my fingers come away feeling the all too familiar texture of blood.  It's thicker than human blood, and darker, almost black, but it is definitely blood. I think the words,  _ ‘huh, so I am’ _ but I’m not sure if I manage to say it. By this point, the blonde is now a set of really blurry clones and everything around me slips into the void nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

When I wake, I am in a sterile white room, perhaps a hospital? I notice the all too familiar feeling of an IV drip. Yes. Definitely a hospital. I glance to my bedside. I half expect to see Alix waiting to apologize for nearly killing me in her attempt to save my life. Hell, some sick part of me is hoping to see Lorenz. Wouldn’t that just be like him; to show up after some girl tries to kill me over his life choices and him showing up out of the blue to try and apologize after two hundred years of pretending I never existed.

I am not expecting Madeline to be asleep at my sickbed, looking worse than feel, with dark circles under her eyes and her pristine hair looking like she hasn’t showered in days.

“You knew him. That’s why I was here. I…I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me. You knew him. He loved you…I thought…” She shakes her head. “Never mind what I thought. I owe you my life now. Even we hunters abide by that part of the Para Codes.”

“I _thought_ I did. Once. It was ages ago, the 1880s, he was different then.” I see no point in lying to her. She knows what I saw in her memories. We had felt each other’s emotions. There is no hiding from that.

“I’m sorry.” The way Madeline says it is sad, apologetic even. . I wonder what she means with that I’m sorry. Sorry for how she remembers him, she’s sorry for what he became, sorry I had ever known him in the first place. Maybe she means all of those things. Maybe she means none of them.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I’d tried to murder you. I…I sank to his level. I became just like the monster I was trying to destroy.”

“For what it’s worth, Madeline. I don’t blame you.” She looks at me like she doesn’t understand. I can’t say I blame her. “I don’t blame you because Lorenz, he tends to lead people to seeking revenge.”

“You say that like you know first hand…but I thought…”

            I want to tell her I do know first hand. I want to tell her my story. I want her to know just why Jack the Ripper did what he did. 

But I don't.


End file.
